After Hours
by AutomneArcher
Summary: Morticia goes through her beauty regimen one evening while Gomez watches her, then playfully teases him about an old admirer who is about to visit. A little bit of limes. ;) The summary will be edited later on. Random one-shot about my favorite couple. Enjoy! Reviews drive me wild. ;) I do NOT own anything.


It was past two am.

The waking world was far away.

The infinite night was still seeping into the earth, so that no wind should disturb the dark velvet silk that spun itself around the firmament; its breath of gossamer ebony, lulling creatures into a deeper world of dreams.

They should have been both sleeping at this time, both far away into the arms of slumber.

But no, they were still wide awake. Desire rousing their senses, shaking the sandman's dust from their eyes so that a fire, a warm flame of passion may be revealed from deep within.

He was in a sitting position in bed. His back leaning against the ancient headboard, bare-chested; covered only by the dressing robe and pajama pants he wore. He shifted lightly, the crude wood carvings molding into his skin, in spite of the protection his scant upper attire offered. In his hand was a half-smoked cigar he indulged himself with, the night air was pleasantly humid. He shook the bed covers off deftly from his left leg, eliciting a brief breeze to graze his ankle.

He took a long drab from his cigar and puffed out smokey rings into the air. The after taste of Cherry-wine was still in his mouth. His eyes wandered idly across the room, the fire place was unlighted that night, and so it remained empty for the evening; the room was dimly lighted by several candle sticks in their candelabras (There was an electrical blackout, thanks to Uncle Fester's accidental short-circuit when he was charging - during a thunderstorm.), the scent of burning wax in the air. He mused to himself quietly the wondrous hours he and his Querida salaciously shared earlier.

A sly smile touched his lips as her image graced the peripheral of his vision.

His wife was sitting in front of her vanity mirror. Morticia was dressed in her black negligee; the one that dipped deliberately lower in the front so that the luscious mounds of her cleavage could be playfully seen in an infuriatingly enticing manner.

In the oval mirror (Cracked for good luck.), Morticia's reflection smirked in a sign that she was _pleased_, she could sense him staring at her again, without her needing to even glance at him. Not that she was conceited nor arrogant about her looks, but rather, considered her beauty as a gift that is meant to be shared, and to offer pleasure. _Especially_ to her beloved. She gracefully accepted her endowments without boast, and was indifferent to feelings of conceit, for it was superfluous. She knew she was beautiful, and accepted it as a fact, not as something to boost one's ego. After all, she was as good as any desert orchid could be, in all its thorns and blushing petals.

Even his reflection in the mirror stared at her with a most tangible passion, so sharp and hot, it could almost burn a hole straight through the glass.

Gomez was pondering a thought in his mind. He has watched her go through her beauty rituals countless of times throughout their marriage, and not once has he ever tire of the sight of her.

Of course how can he? She was equally just as beautiful (If not more beautiful.), than the illuminating moon itself, in all its dark and mysterious allure.

Tonight, he was watching her comb her black locks with long gentle strokes. It was fondly mussed due to their lovemaking earlier.

As he continued to watch her brush her mane. His hands still tingled with the sensation of those silken threads in between his fingers; when they roamed free and became endearingly tangled in her hair; when her lips softly called out his name in her ecstasy when their bodies were so rapturously pressed against each other.

His eyes then slowly traveled to the silhouetted outlines of her hips. Even by candle light, he has memorized her every womanly curve by heart. He smiled darkly when the hem of her night gown rose ever so infinitesimally; revealing the long dainty legs that were rarely seen - except by him.

He cocked his head to the side by a fraction of an inch, admiring them adamantly. Especially the way her thighs would tighten and relax when she would cross her legs, in the same manner when she would make love to him; he was always defenseless against the seductive power of those long, lean white legs. And the way she would wrap them around his hips, that all-consuming feeling when they would tighten...

He shivered unbiddenly, not from the cold, but from the delicious warmth that was now coursing once more in his veins.

He continued to watch her closely as she took a thin piece of damp cloth, and gently began wiping off the make-up she had been wearing that day. Her luminous pallor was exactly the same color as the powder she had been using for several years. The only difference, is the subtle flush in her skin due to the rubbing of the cloth against the apples of her cheek. It left a pinkish glow against her pale complexion, as if the sun had kissed her face amorously.

Shortly after discarding the used piece of cloth to the side, Morticia then took a new one and began removing her red lip-stick. As she gently wipes it away, the color leaves a bright red stain on the white fabric, revealing the plumpness of her lips that pouted gently at the bottom, silently beckoning him to them. Those lips he worshipped and adored with his kisses. Just as he had earlier, lavishly, extensively, tirelessly.

He smiled sheepishly at his thoughts. Feeling as if he were a school-boy, helpless against a sultry temptress.

Not that he minded. Of course not, he loved to be seduced by her. He practically lives for it.

By now, Morticia had finished removing her make-up. Her lips a surprising shade of pink, a lighter contrast as opposed to their usual red color. Now that her face was bare from any unnecessary beauty products; her features became all the more intricate and profound; especially those long dark lashes, and the facial characteristic cheekbones that adorned her sublime face.

His thoughts were disturbed momentarily when the cover of a small amber-colored bottle, toppled haphazardly onto the table, Morticia catching it with one elegant sweeping motion before it fell to the floor.

Gomez eyed the bottle curiously as his wife placed a miniscule drop onto the middle of her hand, and gently began applying it softly to her face. Gently rubbing the sweet scented liquid against her pale complexion until it glistened like white gold.

Gomez remembered Morticia telling him it was called Argan oil. The extract that is produced from the kernels of the Argan tree, indigenous to the exotic land of Morocco. He couldn't exactly understand why she used it, but only knew it served to make her smell even _more_ irresistible. If that's even possible.

Gomez watched with sheer fixation as she artfully smoothed the liquid over the the plains of her face, her cheeks, and moved lower, applying the remaining traces of the oil against her neck.

He found himself immensely aroused.

Morticia smiled surreptitiously to herself, enjoying the tortured state of arousal she has repressed him into.

"Gomez, darling?" Morticia calls out to him, standing from her place near the vanity mirror and then sauntering back to the bed shortly after.

By this time sensory overload was taking over.

"Yes Querida?" His voice sounded husky, and by some reason beyond him, came out as a whisper.

He looked on as she walked to his side of the bed. A gleam of tease in her eyes as she climbed on top of him, the sound of rustling bed covers entered his ears as the sensation of her warm thighs enveloped his hips.

He tenderly places a possessive hand on her waist, caressing it intimately.

"Darling," She said once more, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his bare chest.

"Yes?" He answered, looking at her intently, taking one more drab from his expensive cigar.

"Do you think the drapes for the guest room need changing?" Said Morticia, feigning innocence.

Of all the things he thought she would say, draperies were the last thing on his mind

Gomez couldn't quite catch on to her question, as he was occupied in trying to figure out a way to slip the negligee off of his wife without her noticing.

"I'm sure its fine, love." He answered distractedly.

"Hmmm, what if Lionel finds the color too cheerful? The room still needs a darker contrast than charcoal black. Maybe I should ask Lurch to change it for tomorrow..." She watched his expression tighten with tension as his eyes instantly met with hers. She hid a half-smile, she adored toying with his jealousy, and the things it does to him.

"Ohh...I forgot...Mr.-uhhh-Mr.-uhh-what's-his-name is coming over..." Mumbled Gomez glumly, "Darling," He said, weighing his words carefully, "I don't think I feel too comfortable with the idea of him visiting you..."

"Oh?" She replied, carefully. She looked at him and then saw it immediately, the same look Gomez had when he chased a delivery man around their house with an axe. Mistakenly thinking he was flirting with his wife.

"Lovee," Morticia cooed seductively, drawing herself closer to him as she snatched the cigar from his hand and smoked it luxuriously, puffing out the smoke with precision, "Are you...jealous?" Said Morticia with a tantalizing smirk.

"I? Jealous? Of Lionel?" He tried to conjure a chuckle from his throat, which only ended up sounding like a cough he was trying to surpress. "That's absurd! Me, jealous, that's laughable!"

Morticia chucked the cigar away and tenderly caressed his cheek.

"Don't forget I can read your mind too, my love. Don't think I didn't notice you cringe at breakfast the other day when I told you about his letter."

"I was having indigestion!"

Morticia raised a single perfectly arched brow.

He looked at her knowingly, the truth of her words evident in his eyes. He knew she would be able to see through his lies. He shook his head, not being able to contain his true feelings about Lionel Barker.

"Yes, I'm jealous! Madly jealous! There I said it!" Gomez exclaimed.

"You know what jealously does to me. I can't bear the thought of an old suitor, an old admirer such as Lionel visiting you! It makes my blood curdle with hate!" His neck was corded with anger, his eyes piercing with vehemence.

Morticia moved closer to him and lowered her hand to caress his neck. Such displays of his flagrant protectiveness over her never ceases to excite her.

Their eyes met once again as Morticia leaned further into him, snaking her wrists onto his neck as her bosoms became pressed against his chest. Gomez pulled her fiercely close to him, relishing the delicious weight of her body against his, and whispered dangerously low, "You belong to _me._"

She looked up at him slowly, purposefully, her eyes becoming infinite depths of a sapphire desire, "Yes love." She murmured placing small, short kisses on his mouth, "Always," Then kissing him again, "For all eternity," And again.

Gomez found the heat rising from his chest, and intoxicatingly spreading through his body.

He realized she was doing it again, teasing him, taunting him with her short kisses, so that he'd be _aching_ for more. Those soft lips of velvet heaven that he could never quench himself of.

Finally, after several minutes of teasing and caressing and nibbling; he rolled her over so that this time, his upper body would hover above her, leaving her no escape as she tried to regain her earlier captive position of him.

He looked at the beautiful woman that lay beneath him, a playful smile etched at the corners of her mouth.

"Am I your prisoner now?" She murmured sultrily to him, running lazy lines around the sides of his face.

"Yes," He whispered, leaning down to press loving kisses that began from her chest and traveled to her neck and jawline.

She closed her eyes in pleasure, and stifled a small noise when his mustache began tickling her skin.

She unconsciously raised her leg and accidentally brushed her knee against his loins, which resulted with a low growl emitting from her Castilian lover.

"Gomez?" She whispered to him, her breath against his ear. "Make love to me again."

His eyes interlocked with hers as both their volcanic desires took over. "Cara Mia..."

He whispered breathlessly.

**A/N: Hey guys! This was a bit of a random one-shot, this one would just **_**not**_** leave me alone! Anyways this is my take on that Addams Family Episode "Green-eyed Gomez" when an old suitor of Morticia decides to visit. This is sort of my idea of their conversation the night before Lionel Barker arrives, and how Gomez really felt about the whole thing. And also, I wanted to do something a little bit different with Morticia in this one. Again, this is really random. I hope you guys don't mind, and I hope you like it! And also, I will be updating my ongoing Addams Family story "Morticia's Stew" very soon so stay tuned for that! If you have any questions regarding this one-shot feel free to ask or pm. Reviews drive me wild! ;D**

**Happy Thanksgiving everyone, and God Bless!**

P.s any typos will be rectified. Typed this on my phone, so pardon for any grammatical errors


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